


From the Ramparts

by Monsterunderkilt



Series: The Manse [24]
Category: Actor RPF, Celebrities - Fandom, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fanfic - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt
Summary: Ben and I find a secret place to hide
Series: The Manse [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209447
Kudos: 1





	From the Ramparts

With one quick swipe, I send the shower curtain to one side and scare the bejesus out of its current inhabitant.

“Ben!” I say, staring down at the mop-haired man curled up in my dry bathtub. “What are you doing in here?”

He blinks up at me. “You said I could use your bath anytime. All the others in the Manse are occupied.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to recall making that offer, deciding I must have said it in jest but it’s too late now. “OK, but this is my tub time.”

“Well, I’m just reading, I don’t mind.”

I open my mouth to protest, but sigh instead. “Alright, move over,” I say, climbing in beside him. I sit down and draw the curtain again to hide us. I open my iPad keyboard, noticing that Ben’s got a paperback in his hand, the cover curled back so he can hold it with one hand. “What have you got there?”

His bright gaze is already darting back and forth across the page as he nervously nips at his thumbnail. _“Dune,”_ he replies.

“You stole that out of my office,” I say. He nods without looking up. I start typing, but I can’t help a glance at him every minute. How is he so awkward yet he seems to belong everywhere I see him?

“I want to play the Bene Gesserit witch,” Ben whispers after a few minutes, eyes still transfixed on the book.

I smile and my head falls back in silent ecstasy. “Ohhhh you’d be a fantastic Bene Gesserit witch.”

“You think so?”

“Verily.”

A hand snakes into the side of the curtain and reaches for the water spigot and Ben slaps it.

There’s a cry of surprise, and that very instant, the curtain slides over, revealing Sir Ken holding a towel around his waist. All three of us stare at each other in for a beat. Then Ken says “I’m sorry, is there a tornado coming and we’re to take shelter?”

Ben and I shake our heads.

“Then perhaps we should look into building a few more bathrooms around here because every one of them is in service right now and I seem to be the only one who wishes to use one for its original intended purpose.”

“Well, I’m not one to prevent you from getting nude,” I say, closing my iPad and standing up. I gently kick Ben’s side, signalling him to follow me. “Let’s leave Sir to his cleanliness.”

Ben gets out and steps past Ken first, but I hang back a moment to give my husband a kiss on the cheek and pat his towel-covered bum. “See you at bedtime, sweetie.” I scurry after Ben and hook my arm in his. “Come on, I know a place we can hide for a while.”

A while back, I imagined a castle rampart enclosing one side of the courtyard, with a stone parapet and battlement wall connecting the main house to the Guesthouse. There’s one deeply recessed niche in the center with a conical roof that provides shade and shelter for one (or two!) to tuck themselves away, while still getting a nice view outside through the narrow arrowslit. Ben and I proceeded to take up residence in the niche, sitting on cushions while reading or typing.

After an hour, we notice our asses have gone numb.

Ben puts down my book and stretches his arms over his head, then groans as he stands himself halfway up before he realises he is too tall for the our wee hidey-house. Stepping into the sun, he stretches fully and smiles at me. “This was a good idea. I know it must’ve been a dilemma within you to share your secret spot with me.”

I close my iPad and stand up, shaking out my legs. “I trust you, though. You seem the type to keep mum about such a thing.”

Ben raises his hand to his brow and stares down at the courtyard garden, where Tilda is doing her daily mediation on the big rock. “How is her yoga class?”

“The most relaxing there is.”

“I’ll give it go sometime,” he says, turning back to me. The light breeze teases his thick black curls and I lick my lips as he cards his own long fingers through it on one side, tucking some stray locks behind his ear. He sighs and places his hands on his skinny hips. “I can’t believe I slapped Sir Kenneth Branagh today. I am mortified.”

I tilt my head sympathetically and touch his arm. “You covered your feelings pretty well back there.”

“Yeah I just skittered away like a rat is what I did!”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ll put in a good word later.”

He bites his lip and grimaces. “Tell him I apologise from the depths of my soul.”

With a small chuckle, I reach up and leave a peck on his smooth cheek. “I promise.”

Ben blinks as if he didn’t even notice my kiss, but then he meets my gaze again and raises his arms, beckoning for a hug. I enter his embrace and enjoy his bony but firm grip around me. His torso is so hot. I feel his cheek rub against the top of my head and I close my eyes, soaking up his unexpected heat.


End file.
